“I’ll answer.”
“So who is it?”
“Don’t rush.”
“What the fuck do you mean, don’t rush? Who is it?”
Gasan quickly cut the powder with the card. He split it into two thick lines. Handed Dato the straw.
“Come on, brother.”
Dato took the tube. He leaned over and quickly snorted his line. He returned the tube to Gasan, who placed it in his hooked nose. Slowly he drew half of the line into one nostril, then he drew the rest into the other.
“But how did you find out?” Dato sniffed. “You never talked to my people. How did you find out? What is it, I have a stool pigeon in the house?”
“Your boys are all right, Dato.”
“Well then, who, goddamnit?!”
“Just wait a minute.” Gasan made two more lines. “Let’s finish it off. And I will tell you how to handle this.”
“Handle...handle...There you go!” Dato kicked the box. Buckwheat spilled out of the hole.
Gasan snorted his line. Dato brushed him away.
“I don’t want any more.”
Gasan snorted the second line. He put away the tobacco box and the straw. He wiped his nose with a handkerchief.
“All right, let’s do it this way. We’ll close this. And you’ll take it to your place.”
“What the fuckin’ hell I want sand for?”
“Let your people think that everything’s okay”
“And the dough?”
“You give me the briefcase. But you’ll take the dough out.”
“And?”
“You take the trunk to your place. And then we start hunting rats.”
“So you know who it is — or not?”
Gasan came closer, whispering in his ear.
“And does he have the ice?”
“No.”
“But where’s the ice? The blonds got it already?”
“No. No, Dato. The ice is at your house.”
Dato looked straight at him.
“What? Where?”
“In the freezer.”
“At my place?”
“At your place, at your place, Dato.”
“And who did this?”
“Your Natasha.”
Bosch
21:00, Dato’s Apartment, 7 Malaya Bronnaya
A spacious kitchen. White furniture. Expensive utensils. A gold-plated saucepan full of water on the lit burner.
Orange lay on the marble floor, tied up: 29 years old, red hair, with the massive body of a former athlete.
Natasha sat in the corner: 26 years old, pretty, long-legged, in a torn red dress. Her hand was handcuffed to the radiator.
Dato and Gasan Blindeye sat at the table.
Crowbar and Boiler stood nearby: broad-shouldered, muscular, with small shaved heads and thick necks.
A half-drunk bottle of Yury Dolgoruky vodka stood on the table in front of Dato. Gasan was cutting cocaine on a plate.
Dato poured himself some vodka. Drank it. Took his time lighting a cigarette. Looked at Natasha.
“There’s one fucking thing I can’t understand. Not for the life of me. What was it you didn’t have?”
Natasha didn’t say anything. She looked at the leg of the chair.
“I picked you up out of the shit pile, I helped your brother, I helped your mother. I took you to the Caribbean, dressed you like goddamned Princess Diana. Fucked you every day. What else did you need?”
Natasha said nothing.
“Yeah. Women — they’re a mystery.” Dato blew smoke out. “Huh, Gasan? Third time I run into a rat. What’s going on?! Shit. Is it fate?”
“I don’t know, brother.” Gasan snorted his line. “Might be fate.”
“And then I can’t get my head around the fucking thing: so, say you skimmed some ice on the sly, I dunno, knocked off fifty thou. Then what? What’re you gonna do then? Where would you go? Dig a hole underground or somethin’? Or what, fifty thou is such big bucks for you?”
Natasha didn’t answer.
“Dato, leave her alone,” said Gasan, wiping his nose. “Women’s roles are always secondary.”
“Live and learn, live and learn...” Dato knocked the ash off his cigarette. He looked at the pan. “Well, is it boiling?”
Boiler glanced in the saucepan.
“It’s about to boil.”
Orange tossed and turned on the floor. Crowbar pushed him down with his foot.
“Lie down.”
“Dato, I swear to God or I’m a skunk, it wasn’t my idea. I swear, I swear,” Orange muttered.
“You’re already a fuckin’ skunk.” Dato glanced at his sweaty red head. “A stinking rat.”
“Shakro put a piece to my head two times. In Dagomys that time, and after the wedding. He heard about the blonds from Avera.”
“From Avera?” Gasan grinned. “Avera is in the ground.”
“He hit on Shakro, Shakro owed him from the Tibet pyramid,” said Orange, raising his head a bit. “And then he sold him this stuff about the blonds and the ice. He said, ‘Here’s a nice piece of action, take it. If you get yourself a slice, you’ll pay me back.’”
“And what, Shakro ordered you to pinch it from Gasan?” Gasan asked.
“Shakro wants to take over the ice...”
“What?” Dato grinned. “What kinda bullshit’re you shoveling, asshole? Avera was taken down. What fucking debt, what Tibet?”
“Even without Avera he wants to. I swear to God, Dato. His boys are saying he’s totally naked now, he and Ryba are on the outs, and they’ll jump you.”
“And take over the deal?” Dato smiled.
“They want to.”
“So rough and rude? No parlay?”
“He told me, ‘Go on, grab a piece of it, I’ll see. If you don’t — we’ll take him down.’ “
“And just what does he wanna see?”
“Well, he wants to watch you stew.”
Dato stubbed out the butt, got up, and walked over to Orange. He thrust his hands in his pockets. He rocked on his feet.
“Hmm. Yeah. You fuckin’ mutt. You’re a mad dog, stark raving mad. Strayed from the code.”
He nodded to Boiler. Boiler took the pan off the stove. Crowbar held Orange’s head down to the light blue marble floor with his boot.
“I swear, Dato...Gasan...I swear...” Orange mumbled.
Boiler sat on Orange’s legs. He started pouring boiling water on his back.
Orange howled and jerked.
Crowbar and Boiler flattened him.
“The truth, dog, give us the truth,” said Dato, rocking on his feet.
“I swear! I swear!” bellowed Orange.
Boiler splashed water on his back. Orange thrashed.
“The truth, the truth.”
“Dato! Don’t!” Natasha shouted.
“The truth, dog.”
“I swear, I swear!”
“Splash some on his face,” Gasan suggested.
Boiler splashed water on Orange’s head. He moaned.
“Don’t, Dato! Leave him alone!” Natasha cried.
“You’ll get your turn, rat!” said Dato, kicking her.
“Talk, otherwise we’ll boil you like a crab,” said Gasan, calmly watching Orange’s shuddering body.
“Shakro wants to take over the ice!” Orange roared.
“Don’t bullshit me, you little crook! Don’t bullshit me! Don’t bullshit! Don’t bullshit!” Dato began to kick him in the face.
“A little rat...” Gasan spat. “Pour some on his balls!”
Boiler and Crowbar began to pull down Orange’s pants.
“Dato! Dato! Dato!” Natasha cried.
“Quiet, rat!”
“Dato, don’t, don’t! I’ll tell you everything!” Natasha screamed.
“Shut up, rat!”
“Let her tell, Dato.” Gasan went over to Natasha. “Tell us the truth.”
“I’ll tell you everything, just don’t!”
&
nbsp; Dato made a sign to Boiler. He stopped splashing boiling water on Orange.
“Go on bitch: talk.”
Natasha wiped her nose with her free hand. She sobbed.
“He’s lying about everything. It wasn’t Shakro. It was me.”
Dato looked at her.
“What the fuck for?”
“You’ll dump me at some point. Like Zhenka. I know about your...that...ballerina. And I...I’m...I don’t really have anything. My mother’s about to die.”
“And so?”
“Well...I wanted to skim off some dough...just...”
“And you put him up to it?”
She nodded.
“For how much?”
“Fifty-fifty.”
Dato turned his gaze to Gasan. Gasan remained silent. Natasha let out a sob. Orange moaned on the floor.
Dato looked at Orange.
“Turn him over.”
Boiler and Crowbar turned him over on his back. Dato squatted down. He looked into Orange’s gray eyes.
“It’s true.”
He stood up. Gasan proffered his hand. Dato slapped his palm. He exhaled in relief.
“Let’s go talk.”
They went into the next room: dim light, a lot of expensive furniture.
“That’s what I thought, that it wasn’t Shakro.” Gasan stretched and then shivered, as though chilled. He locked his thin fingers together. Cracked his knuckles.
“Take over...shit!” Dato grinned nervously. He opened the bar, took out a bottle of cognac, and poured some. He drained his glass.
“Every fucking punk crook is just waiting to set me on Shakro. Fucking jackals, alla’them!”
“He just heard about it...maybe from Avera, from his boys...maybe from Dyriavy...”
“But why does everyone know, Gasan? Why does every goddamn cockroach know about the fucking ice?”
“You’re asking me?”
“Who should I ask? Avera? Zhorik? They’re fucking worm food. But you’re alive.”
“You’re alive, too, my brother,” Gasan looked at him seriously. “We’re both alive. So far.”
“So far as what?”
“So far as we understand that there’s no pockets six feet under.”
Dato turned away. He walked to the window. He rocked on his toes. Gasan went up to him. He placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You know me, my friend. I don’t need anybody’s share. Mine is plenty for my powder.”
Dato look out the window at nighttime Moscow.
“Little shits!”
“We have to do something about them, friend.”
“Something...” Dato repeated, rocking on his stocking feet. “Somefuckingthing.”
He turned abruptly. Went into the kitchen. Gasan followed him slowly.
In the corner of the kitchen stood a massive white Bosch refrigerator. Dato opened the freezer section. It was filled with frozen food. He began to throw the packages on the floor. They hit the marble floor with dry clunks. Under the food lay a large cube of ice. Dato looked at it angrily.
“Because I never eat anything frozen...right, bitch?”
He approached Natasha.
She whimpered and turned away.
“A safe place, right?” Gasan stared glumly.
“Why’re all these fucking broads so smart all of a sudden?” Dato slapped himself on his thighs. “I don’t get what’s going on.”
“Liberation,” Boiler spoke out unexpectedly.
“Huh?” Dato turned to him.
“Yeah...that’s when chicks got equal rights with guys,” Boiler muttered.
Dato looked at him attentively. Turned to Gasan. “Let’s have the box.”
Gasan took out his cell phone. He dialed. “Drive on over.”
A few minutes later two guys entered the apartment with the coffer. They put on rubber gloves. They took the cube of ice out of the freezer, put it in the coffer, and carefully took the coffer away.
Dato poured himself some vodka, downing it in a gulp.
“Okay. Orange — goes in the garbage.”
Orange jerked as hard as he could. He shouted something inarticulate. Boiler and Crowbar fell on him. Crowbar threw a noose around Orange’s thick, freckled neck.
Natasha vomited. Her head hung down impotently.
Orange wheezed and tossed a long time. He passed gas.
Finally he was still.
Boiler rolled in a large blue plastic suitcase from the coat closet. He put Orange’s corpse in it. They wheeled it out of the kitchen. Out of the apartment.
The door closed behind them.
Gasan sat down at the table. He took out his tobacco box and sprinkled some cocaine on a plate. He began cutting it with a plastic card.
Dato took a key out of his pocket. He un-handcuffed Natasha from the radiator. She slumped weakly to the floor. Her breathing was shallow. She was shaking.
Dato opened the door of the freezer.
“Get in.”
Natasha lifted her head.
“Get in, rat!”
She obediently crawled into the freezer. Dato slammed the door. Leaned his back against it.
“I’ll fuckin’ freeze her. That’s it.”
Gasan grinned. Snorted a line of cocaine. Then some more.
Dato took out a cigarette. Lit it.
Natasha could barely be heard whimpering in the freezer.
Dato smoked. Gasan rubbed cocaine on his gums.
“I’ll get myself a new whore,” Dato mumbled.
Gasan stood up. Went over to him.
“Send her to Turkey. To Rustam.”
“What fucking Rustam?!” Dato shook his head angrily. “She going to the fucking morgue. Turkey!”
“Friend, don’t do this.”
“Go fuck yourself. She’s my broad.”
“The woman is yours. The business is ours.”
Natasha whined and banged on the door.
“I’ll fuckin’ waste her.” Dato shook his head stubbornly. “Shameless cunt.”
“Don’t do this, Dato.”
“Get outta here!”
“Don’t do this, brother.”
“Back off, Gasan, don’t bug me, goddamnit.”
“Don’t do this! You’ll bring us all down, you pig head!” Gasan grabbed Dato.
“What the hell...get your paws off...” Dato struggled.
“Pig head...”
“Get...your...paws off...asshole...”
They fought next to the huge white refrigerator.
“I’m pregnant!” could suddenly be heard out of the freezer.
The struggle stopped.
Dato pushed Gasan away. He opened the door.
“What?”
Natasha sat there, bent over.
“What did you say?”
“I’m pregnant,” she said quietly.
“By who?” growled Dato.
“By you.”
Dato looked at her vacantly. At her bare knees. Then at her toes with their dark blue nail polish. A frost-covered dumpling lay next to her feet.
Dato stared at the dumpling.
Natasha fell out of the freezer onto the floor. She crawled across the marble.
“When...how long?” asked Dato.
“Second month...” She crawled out of the kitchen. Crawled into the bathroom.
Dato rubbed the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. Gasan slapped him on the back.
“So there, you see, brother...and you wanted to freeze her!”
Blockade
04:15, Komar and Vika’s Rented Apartment
A dilapidated bathroom, light blue tile cracked and chipped off in places, rust stains in the bathtub and sink, the dim light of an old lightbulb, dirty underwear soaking in a basin.
Lapin and Ilona lay naked in the overfilled tub. Ilona was sitting on Lapin and smoking. His penis was in her vagina. She moved slowly. In a state of semi-oblivion, Lapin opened and closed his eyes.
“But the main thing...is, I mean..
.He doesn’t understand anything about craft...the actor’s craft...” Ilona mumbled rapidly through dry lips. “Keanu Reeves is fabulous, too, I get off on him because he can do a love scene honestly, but he seems so hot and cool and all...and I really, you know...well I just don’t believe him...not even a smidgen...and I mean what the fuck should I pay money for if I don’t believe the actor, I mean, if there’s no belief...Oy, your balls are so hard!”
She moved sharply. Water splashed over the edge of the bathtub.
The peeling door opened. Komar entered, naked. His penis was erect.
“Let’s switch, you cool Texas Ranger dudes.”
“Okay.” Ilona climbed out of the bath.
“Oh, shit man, you’ve flooded the place...” Komar looked at the floor. “The neighbors are gonna be banging on the door again...”
“You two are just about the same.” Ilona grabbed Komar by the penis.
“Size makes a difference?” he asked hoarsely, grinning.
“You bet.”
“Then let’s go.”
“What about shooting up?”
“As soon as I come — we’ll do it.”
They went out. Lapin took his hand out of the water. Looked at his nails: they were blue — like the tile.
Vika walked in, naked.
“So, then, right in the water?”
Lapin opened his eyes. Vika crawled in with him. Took his penis and placed it in her vagina.
“It’s cold...” said Lapin, unsticking his lips.
“We can let this out and run a new bath,” said Vika, beginning to move.
“Okay, let’s...”
She reach over to the drain and pulled the plug. The water began to flow out.
“I had this boyfriend, he was a junkie too, he like to stick his balls in that hole when the water was draining, that is, when he was a little boy.”
“What?”
“We used to tell each other how we got off when we were kids ...I...umm...Oy, what a great penis you’ve got...I...liked to sit on the corner of the table and cross my legs like this...and he would squat in the bathtub, fill it, and then pull out the plug and stick his balls in there. Then he’d jack off. And think about Communism.”
“What for?”
“Well, I mean, not exactly about Communism itself, who the fuck needs Communism...It’s not too hot?” She turned on the hot water.
“It’s fine.”
“But, you know, about how in Communism there would be communal women...and...he...Oy, oy, oy...he...ummm. Oy, oy, oy...I mean...Oy, oy...oy...”
Ice Trilogy Page 37